


a heart ever-aching

by soundsandsweetairs



Category: Treasure Island (2012), Treasure Island - Robert Louis Stevenson
Genre: Atmospheric, Comfort, F/F, One Shot, The rarest of pairs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:42:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27761692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundsandsweetairs/pseuds/soundsandsweetairs
Summary: Alibe Silver shows up at the Admiral Benbow. Meg takes her in.
Relationships: Meg Hawkins/Alibe Silver
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	a heart ever-aching

Meg saw the woman on her way to the water pump. Her eyes flickered across her tangled hair, her bedraggled dress, her bloody feet. She sighed. Another guttersnipe, come poking around for charity where there was none to be had. 

“What is it?” Meg was startled by the harshness of her own voice. She pressed her lips together.

“Just looking for some food, missus, that’s all. A drink, if that’s acceptable?” The woman looked almost like a ghost, silhouetted against the bleak sky. 

She didn’t have food to spare. The Admiral Benbow wasn’t even scraping by, really; she hadn’t had the money to repair the windows after the pirates had smashed their way through the inn, and they were boarded up, unwelcoming. Business had dried to a trickle. Bills were going unpaid. And yet, she couldn’t leave this poor thing out here. The wind rattled through the dry grass, and Meg pulled her shawl tightly around her.

“What’s your name, then, dear?”

The woman looked up. Her eyes were bottomless as they peered into Meg’s. “Alibe.”

Meg shivered. It was a beautiful name. She’d learnt to be suspicious of the world since Leland’s death — doubly so since the Admiral Benbow had been sacked. Still—

“Come with me, Alibe.” The name twisted sensuously on her tongue and lips. “I don’t have much, God knows, but you can share it with me, if you’d like.”

“Thank you—?” Alibe put a hand on her arm. 

“Meg. Meg Hawkins.” 

Her smile lit up her face. She was beautiful, Meg realised. “Meg. I am so grateful.”

——

Meg had deposited Alibe just inside the door and was attempting to scrounge up a meal. She grimaced at the empty shelves in the pantry. She could offer such meagre sustenance to her guest. Meg sliced up some bread, only a little stale, and slid a bit of dried pork onto a plate. It would have to do. 

Alibe was looking around the main room of the inn when Meg came out of the kitchen. How careworn it seemed, seen now through someone else’s eyes! She had once been proud of the Admiral Benbow, a brave little outpost up the road from Bristol. Certainly, it couldn’t compete with the fine inns in town, but it had been a respectable establishment, with good food and clean beds. Now, the whole structure creaked in the wind, and she could never seem to stay ahead of the dust and cobwebs that gathered in every corner. 

Still, Alibe didn’t seem to mind. Her eyes held no judgment as they turned towards Meg. She smiled when she saw the plate of food in Meg’s hands. 

“It’s not much—”

“Thank you, Meg.” They sat at the table, which had once welcomed so many guests passing through. Now it was just the two of them. “I have been walking for so long, and you are the first person who has offered any help to me. You are truly generous.”

Their conversation was light. They were both dancing around something, Meg could tell — but that was alright. She didn’t particularly want to bring up her dead husband, her absent son — so she didn’t mind that Alibe was keeping secrets, too. 

There was exhaustion in the lines of Alibe’s body. Meg recognised a fatigue that wasn’t just the result of hard physical work. It went deeper than that: a life lived too close to destitution, staved away too often with only a few charitable coins. The same hardships had ravaged Meg, too.

“You could — stay the night — that is, if you don’t have somewhere else you’re going tonight.” Meg felt awkward at the suggestion, though of course she shouldn’t. This was an inn, after all. 

Alibe smiled at her again, that warm, generous smile. “Only if you have the space.”

Meg shrugged at the empty inn.  _ Of course she had the space. _

The candle threw strange shadows on the walls as they climbed the stairs. They paused at the door to Meg’s room. Alibe cocked her head with a small smile on her face. Meg’s hand shivered on the doorknob. Then they were inside, and Alibe’s mouth was soft on hers.

Her bed had been so cold since Leland died. And here was Alibe, warm, warm, warm. Her hands were gentle as they unlaced Meg’s stays. Her fingertips brushed over Meg’s breasts, her stomach, her thighs. They rocked together, trembling. Tears sprang to Meg’s eyes at the feeling of closeness. It had been so very long since another person had touched her like this. She came apart under Alibe’s clever fingers, breaking like waves on the rocky coast. 

Alibe breathed steadily against her lips, afterwards. Meg marvelled at the feeling of another body next to her, solid, real. No ghost, after all. For the first time in a long time, she felt warm. 

**Author's Note:**

> Me, watching this miniseries: UHHHH THESE LADIES!!!!!
> 
> Title from the song "Sunday", from the mobile game/experience(?) "The Sailor's Dream" (highly recommended, if atmospheric nautical stuff appeals to you, which I assume it does).


End file.
